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The pitched-darkness blinded you. You could see nothing and if that wasn't enough - you couldn't also move. Your legs and arms were all tied up and you could do nothing, not even using your powers since your head felt so dizzy. Did you toke out on a bad nip before or...? No, no way now. Even nip never had such a strong effect on you.
Ugh, thinking about it made your headache worse.
Where the fuck are you?
You try your best to straighten up, a small grunt of frustration came out of the spaces between your stitches -- but, you immediately silenced after hearing voices being followed with heartbeats - presence of more people...?
It felt cold. And the louder the footsteps became, the chiller the aura around the place got. You pressed your bare back against the wall, shoving yourself into it while trembling, trying your best to not draw any unwanted attention. After a few more steps, the voices ceased talking. You felt like you were trapped inside a cage made out of flesh and bones. Who were they?
The only answer you receive is a hideous screechy laughter that was somewhat familiar.
They're here.
You had only two options. Either you will screw up and look like a wimp, either you will demand to be set free and toss a juicy threat. You? Oh, you've done none of the options since the horror paralyzed you, but you tried your best to stay calm and ignore the strangers and look as prideful as ever.
At those moment for horrible act you'd rather so much to get showered by hateful remarks and insults. How you wish that was the case.
They didn't like it.
Your act was God awfully terrible.
After few moments your lungs were filled with a scent of fresh blood. One of whoever stood in front of you was surely a great warrior. And due to his kindness he comes now to show you some of his best moves - starting it off by tugging at your mane to forcefully hit your skull against the wall behind you.
Now you weren't totally sure if it made your headache any better but now you were completely sure that they want to see the weaker side of you. How unfortunate, that's not going happen today. You dropped on the floor and didn't have much of power to fight back. You could do nothing at your current condition.
Your lips quivered.
The trolls talked.
You formed a smile and continued to lay down, breathing slowly.
Shortly afterwards another closed the gap between you and him or... her? You couldn't tell whoever that was. You were blinded by the darkness.
The figure allowed your lips to taste freedom after cutting the stitches that kept your lips together. And how can you put it nicely -- freedom tasted bitter. Bitter and suspicious at most of it.
Two figures dragged you up into a sitting position, holding onto your shoulders to keep you still since you were numb after the first hit.
While before you haven't listened to anything they said, your ears managed to catch the word "sacrifice" and your name among the lines. Something was horribly wrong here and you could nothing about it. You were way too weak to shake off the terror off of you. It was too late for it.
One... two... three. Three of them were around you, they sounded like playful three-sweeps old daredevil and each one of them had his or her special profession. Just like in the movies, someone got the power, someone the brains and the last one is usually some sort of a third-wheel asshole guy.
Lifting your head up with some force you tried to eye the figure in front of you through the fabric. You could vaguely notice that the character wore colorful robes. And they weren't colorful because of the cloth, it was --
Before you could place the last piece of the puzzle, a hand was place under your chin. And oh, how you hated this touch. This touch was so small yet it meant so much. It meant that you are being looked down at the moment, like you are in the lowest level. This gesture meant "I own you".
A hiss escaped your mouth and you flinched -- but their hold was too strong.
The blade that tore your stitches slid into your mouth, being rested upon your sharp teeth and before you could do anything your cheek was slashed upwards, the dagger easily breaks the skin. The pain was unruly, and even though you've struggled not to cry - you let it all out now. The fabric that covered your eyes slowly got soaked with your tears. Of course for the sake of balance they cut your other cheek as well - "there you go" they said.
"It is our gift. Treasure your new smile, motherfucking Makara. You owe us a favor since we made your smile the biggest and the WIDEST. You are welcome!"
The figures let you go and your body hit the floor. You were screaming inside of you. You were crying. You wanted to see, you wanted to know and you wanted to screech. However, this inner struggle was soon calmed down. You felt a few more touches of theirs before you've drifted into a different zone. A place where it was all silent and white, filled with light. And you were just sleeping - sleeping with no dreams, no nightmares.
You have no idea if you were asleep for two hours or for two days. Once you get up you feel how your whole body burns. Blinking a few times you then finally could see. A tad blurry for some reason but it was way better than the dark-
No.
NO NO NO NO.
Your eyes widen after you finally scanned the area.
The smell of blood was quite fresh and the open field was dyed in indigo paint which, wasn't much of paint but that'd be the best way to describe it. And you? Oh, you had all the fame - you were the star and laid down on a big fancy stage. Not the most comfortable shit in the world but you noticed how much of effort was put on in the building of it.
Other... Subjugglators. There weren't many of them but somebody or something killed them all, in a decent brutal way too. Your brothers... your own race wanted to use you like a beast and...? No, that just can not be. You laugh at the thought until feeling a sharp pain going through your nerve-system. Your cheeks... It wasn't a dream.
Shifting on the stage uncomfortably you notice the new markings upon your flesh. Some sort of tribal tattoo was drawn all over your body. Bones. Bones bones and more bones. Those weirdos turned you into a living-dead boy huh? Damn those chucklefucks got you good this time. But you were still terrified that something like that would happen again. Have you sinned?
Before making any other movement you proceed to flat down on the floor, your knees are being glued to the stage as you were praising somebody and that was what you were actually doing. You thanked to your Mirthful Messiahs for sparing your life this time.
You finally get up
CRACK
... the sound. Bones cracking? Moving your head to the side another violent bone-cracking sound came out of it. It pained your ears but physically?
You felt nothing.
Even the bruises didn't hurt anymore. If only the pain in your jaw didn't kill you so much...
Sliding off the stage you make your way through the crowd, shoving off your way the big-boned creatures. They were all adult and mature and your eyes easily spotted the leader.
He was placed in eternal rest on a rather fancy seat. Honestly, if the whole place didn't look like a mess of blood you'd think he's just in a deep sleep.
Death never scared you, you loved death. You were a big fan of death ever since you were a wiggler. And so on, with a harshly forced big grin upon your face, you crawl into the highblood's lap, moving some of the bangs from his face before caressing one of his cold, lifeless cheeks.
'Don't worry, you look far more beautiful this way'.
You silently hummed those words to the other.
You never were mad, if anything, just confused due to the event.
After placing a small 'goodnight' kiss on the forehead of the mature troll, you proceeded to strip him off his clothes. While any facial expression were difficult to make - you knew for a fact that you were laughing inside of you.
'Serves you mother fuckin right'.
After covering up your exposed body with his clothes you began to run. You had no idea where you were but one thing for sure- you had to ESCAPE. Escape from them, from the ritual, from this dark forest...
But nothing in life is all that simple and not any story has a happy end.
Your legs betray you and you trip over, your body making terrible cracking noises once you flat on the ground.
Before knocking out you try to crawl, just a little more until you will see a ray of light, a warm smile of a friend or of a stranger... just... a little more.
But no.
Your conscious betrays you too and you drift into another long-slumber.
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Your name is KURLOZ MAKARA and you are 6 BEFORUS SWEEPS OLD. And Jesus fucking Christ it's FUCKING DARK in here! Turn on some lights.
Kurloz: Snap your fingers.
Upon the command, lines of indigo-candles lit-up and decorate the grand hall with pathetic rays of light that were more than enough to see and find your way around. You were sitting on something that seemed like a royal throne that was designed to suit your personal taste. One thing for sure though - it was hella comfortable.
However, it didn't look like you were slacking at the slightest. You were concentrating on something.
Or well, controling somebody.
You've been practicing your abilities ever since you were around two sweeps old and now you had a decent hold of your wicked Chucklevoodoos. Although you had a small problem - you always aimed for the greatest hold of it, something that usually returned to you like a fucking boomerang and either drained most of your energy, either it almost put you in a near-death situation. So far the latter never happened, just your luck.
After a while a sound of footsteps could have been heard.
Somebody was coming. And that somebody walked rather slowly.
Suddenly, the atmosphere was washed with the smell of fresh blood.
It was her.
You slowly fixed your eyes to look straight. A figure of a girl with a messy hair appeared from the shadows.
She had messy hair and her clothes were decorated with stains of yellow-blood along with her weapon, a claw-like glove. Her eyes flashed with the same colors like yours.
"The mission was successfurry done."
She said with no emotion in her speech.
You grinned and rose from the chair, walking towards her. Of course you knew the news, but it was always nice to hear that the work was done and she was safe and sound. (Yes, you made sure to carefully examine her body just a moment ago - there were no injuries at all! Not even the smallest of scratch-marks.)
Reaching a hand over, you stroke Meulin's cheek.
"Excellent work, my dear."
It was about time to let go off of the mind-control. And you've done it. Unfortunately the side-effect was that you suffered from a light headache but you ignored it for now.
When your matesprit snapped from your manipulation - she seemed to be confused and scared. She didn't remember what happened at all.
You were set and ready with explanations, your facial expression changed into a worried one however. You pulled on a small 'act'.
"Honeydew... it seems like you were mother fuckin sleepwalkin. Perhaps you've updated your shipping wall and needed some paint. It's alright, Lin."
Giving her a supportive smile you kept on showering her with lies. Lies upon lies upon more lies until eventually you pulled her into a warm embrace, your hands slowly ran up and down her back to calm her down.
Nobody ever would justify your actions, you were aware of it. It's not like you couldn't kill somebody yourself if you wanted to - it wasn't a problem at all. However, you weren't the type to dip your hands in blood and do the dirty job.
You rarely used others to fulfill murder-jobs that's because those who you ever killed had a reason to be killed. They either went on way too many fights and caused too much noise that you weren't a fond of - either they were way too dangerous and could have killed others if you didn't 'get rid of them'.
It's wrong to use your matesprit as weapon, yes, you know.
It's wrong to kill others, yes, those are old news.
But you had no choice.
It was a simple recruitment job.
It was your duty to keep order in your society since by the looks of it - only you were capable of doing so.
Your back faced against one of the cold walls that were covered by indigo-liquid and you were sitting. Rough hand-writings decorated the wall - lines upon lines of orders which slowly turned into vague requests, which then turned into sloppy beggings that could've been hardly read --
LEAVE ME AL:o)NE
STEP OFF MY FUC_IN PAN
___LIN I'M _:o(___
SAVE YOURS_L_
HELLP
I'LL DO ________ J___ __O_
DON'T ___ T___ ___ ___
They were laughing at how pathetic you looked and behaved.
Silly BrokEn ToY
For the first time in your life you have felt exhausted, sick of everything, you refused to accept the fact that you are so weak.
Possibly it was due the fact that you haven't eaten a thing ever since you stitched your mouth shut. Shortly after you have also given up on drinking water. The starvation weakened you and made your body ill, something that was visible.
You lost the count of days that have passed since the last time you've ate or drank but now it didn't even matter anymore. The pain stung and the voices that were trapped inside of your head made it a lot worse. They laughed at your current situation, at your terrible scribbles on the wall, at how pathetic you looked - they laughed at you since they found you to be so hilariously amusing.
FallenPrince, fallen Prince,
YOUWILL BE BETTER OFF DEAD.
Every limb, every body-part of yours hurt. But you manage to move a little well - your mouth does.
A mocking smirk danced upon your stitched lips.
StoP SMILING yOu creep.
You were silent the whole time. You didn't respond not with your own voice in your mind, not with chucklevoodoos - nothing.
The only respond they have gotten was a dead silence from your end.
You kept on smiling at every word they threw on you, and that only irritated them further more. At some point you've heard them vaguely but at the bottom line they've called you a pathetic useless trash, waste of space, ugly fucker that nobody's going to show any emotion toward with his horrible personality traits, a disgrace, a shame for all the Subjugglators, weird indigo-blooded... the insults were countless.
But that did not anger you. It's been long ever since you've been mad. And right now, the thing you have wished for the most is to die peacefully in your secret chamber. Nobody will ever know where you are because whoever stepped inside the abandoned Court of Miracles shortly lost his most recent memories after the paid visit.
In reality the place was close to be illusionary - filled with lies and secrets that nobody else knew aside for you. And you, as a good boy and a loyal fellow Subjugglator - kept your mouth zipped.
#_o_
Your hands were covered by blood. When you felt weird all the sudden the first thing you've done was clawing at the wall - breaking your decently long nails to pull some paint to draw with. Once you've ran out of it - you pierced the center of your hands with the sharp chair handles to keep writing. Nobody knew how time you've spent on your last masterpiece you've drawn with your hands,
your blood,
your last powers.
Soon, you felt how your eyelids have gotten heavier. Whenever you blinked for a brief moment you'd see a neon screen with a bunch of bright colors. Your mind became more lucid and you felt like the voices slowly faded away.
They didn't really fade away but it was you who silenced them.
You embraced death with bitter-sweet tears of happiness and a steady smile because you have known that for a getting an important role that is your duty to die and make yourself useful.
The acceptance terrified the voices who were supposed to guide you on your long way. You knew that it was a task of theirs.
Congratulations -
You've passed.
A stomach-feeling said that this is time for you to close your eyes and go to sleep, Prince --
A series of violent bone-cracking sounds filled the silence when an invisible force pulled you to stand up on your feet, your hands rose upwards like you were a marionette, controlled by unseen strings.
You haven't felt any pain anymore but your body was shivering uncontrollably. It seemed like you were about to literally break apart like a wooden old puppet.
The blood was already dry on your hands and words can not express the pain you've felt a while ago when you abused them in any possible way. Those hands moved to form your final speech with silent signals.
{ Long live the Angel of Double-Death. }
Right after that - the puppeteer let go off of you and you fall flat on your face, drifting into a slumber.
Despite the body the was lacking a spirit, lacking so much blood, lacking any emotion, lacking any motivation to continue to wander in the world of the living - the shell moved a tad.
The corpse unconsciously moved her arms and began to crawl from it's place -- dragging the slender body along with them it seemed like they wanted to write something with the blood but unfortunately, it was not possible. After the realization one of them reached upwards, as it was asked to be held out by somebody ---
It was dropped down and ceased moving after that one action.
Your name is Kurloz Makara and the only troll you've ever killed directly was yourself.
Your name is Kurloz Makara and you've done something horrible that you regret. But that's okay, you've made sure that such thing will never repeat itself. And why no, it was your very own decision.
Your name is Kurloz Makara and you must pay the price for hurting your beloved Mage.
The dark indigo liquid that dripped from the fresh holes around your mouth was mixed with the more watery material that came out of your eyes. The purple mixture made it way down into the sink you hovered above - eventually hitting the long organ you've chewed off before stitching your mouth.
Despite your high pain tolerance you couldn't help it but to cry like an abandoned wiggler. It didn't hurt you only physically but mentally too since you knew that no matter how much you will try to shut yourself up -
Such action will never return her lost hearing sense.
It took you a day or two to study basic-decent sign language after the small unfortunate 'accident'.
For you
and for her.
And you also finally gathered the courage to 'speak' with her. You used the Trollian client to arrange a meeting with your matesprit.
_________
By the looks of it, she took your action with a big surprise. She could have read your lips however, now that they were stitched together it was impossible for her.
Tilting your head, you flash a smile. It was painful - you still weren't all that used to the stitches but you didn't want to upset her or depress her. You've done it for her sake; because you loved her dearly you didn't want to let her suffer alone because of you. From your personal point of view - the pain should be a mutual thing, and you felt bad for putting her in such position.
You hated yourself so much for giving her an experience she never deserved.
You move your hands to finally sign,
{ I'm sorry. }
You've only stopped to sign to make a small gesture towards your stitched-mouth.
{ I've made sure for it to never happen again. }
{ Please, don't be mad at me. }
{ I love you. }
You've shivered a little as you've made those silent signal. It felt wrong. If really loved her... you wouldn't have hurt her. Oh, if only you could control yourself during the nightmare - you'd never be in this place.
{ We... can stay friends... right? }
It felt like the speech that you've done with your hands was not enough. It felt like the way you punished yourself at was not enough too. You wanted to shower her with countless apologies. You wanted to be pathetic and beg from her to forgive her.
You never wanted this accident to happen and separate the two of you.
But it was only for the best. This way, the fear of hurting the most important person to you again will fade away slowly.
Even if you are no longer together - even if you caused her horrible handicap you wanted to make up for it.
And you will accomplish your desired goal, even if it will kill you.
